LH 



THE WEASEL 



A CHAIN that is blown away by the 

 wind and melted by the sun, links with 

 pairs of parallel dots the gaps of farm 

 fences, and winds through and along 

 walls and zigzag lines of rails, is likely to 

 be the most visible sign that you will 

 find in winter of one bold and persistent 

 little hunter's presence. 



Still less likely are you to be aware of 

 it in summer or fall, even by such traces 

 of his passage, for he is in league with 

 nature to keep his secrets. When every 

 foot of his outdoor wandering must be 

 recorded she makes him as white as 

 the snow whereon it is imprinted, save 

 his beady eyes and dark tail-tip. When 

 summer is green and autumn gay or sad 

 of hue she clothes him in the brown 

 wherewith she makes so many of her 

 wild children inconspicuous. 



Yet you may see him, now and then, 

 260 



